


PWNed

by Quente



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Silver Trio, pre-shin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quente/pseuds/Quente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ohtori and Hiyoshi are in a relationship. Ohtori and Shishido are in a relationship. Can Hiyoshi ever feel like he's not the odd man out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in 2006 (holy...) well before Shin Tennis, so I have no idea what the characters are up to nowadays. In my head everyone's a decent age for kinky sex. There's a lot of angst, too, if you're into that sort of thing. PWP and angst. Enjoy!

They didn't precisely take turns. It was more like they simply never intersected. Ohtori saw Shishido every waking moment, it seemed. And Hiyoshi saw Ohtori in the small spare moments in between. 

It was a little hard sleeping with half of a couple. In fact, it sucked. Hiyoshi often felt like the spare wheel on a bicycle, the one Ohtori used when Shishido had to run off to do Senpai stuff, like be Atobe's bitch. Ohtori would come knocking on his door, lean his tall, polite body in to ask if Hiyoshi was free for some studying (they were classmates, after all), and suddenly (it seemed to Hiyoshi) they'd be making out all over Ohtori's rug.

Hiyoshi wasn't quite sure how that happened. Did the boy dip himself in pheromones before he came over?

And he never asked if Shishido knew about it. Part of him was extremely afraid that the answer would be Ohtori's very polite "Er, I'd prefer not to tell Shishido-san," and then where would Hiyoshi be? He'd simply be Ohtori's...mistress, the one that helped assuage his rampant topping needs whenever his boyfriend wasn't around.

And there was no pride in that, none at all. And more important than sex was, of course, pride. So Hiyoshi wasn't ever going to ask, and what's more, was never going to beg for more than Ohtori could give. So Hiyoshi shoved his secret life as member of the Silver Trio somewhere deep in his brain, sublimated it, turned it into some really badass tennis.

But one day something went quite awry.

Earlier, as they were changing after practice, Ohtori had mentioned very casually that he was going to be studying all alone in his room that night, and if Hiyoshi-kun was free, he should stop on by. So Hiyoshi did, like the pathetic chump that he was, even carrying a book or two for show.

Hiyoshi knocked on the door and opened it. 

...Only to find Shishido at the table instead of Ohtori, sitting with his shirt off and his hair down, just like he owned the place. When Shishido saw Hiyoshi he cocked an eyebrow and put a finger to his lips. Hiyoshi tiptoed in uncertainly and placed the books very ostentatiously on the table, as if he was actually there to study instead of make sweet love to Shishido's boyfriend.

"I guess I wore him out," Shishido chuckled, and Hiyoshi considered stabbing him with a tennis racket. Shishido nodded toward the bed, where the only part of Ohtori that Hiyoshi could see was a very spent-looking arm, dangling off the mattress.

"I should go --" Hiyoshi said abruptly, and stood. But Shishido grabbed his arm and tugged him back to sitting. 

"No you don't," Shishido said firmly, and Hiyoshi glared at him. "Ohtori said you'd be by to study. And he'd be disappointed if you left. Said you needed help with your statistics class, and I'm a fair hand at it."

Hiyoshi almost laughed. Statistics, his ass. Often...and hard... Oops, now was really not the time to be frustrating himself.

Hiyoshi nodded, heart breaking a little. He guessed Ohtori hadn't told Shishido about their spare moments together. Hiyoshi was a little disappointed, but decided to play along. Anything for a piece of Ohtori, really. "Chump," he told himself sternly, and opened his statistics book to the most recent chapter and put it on the table.

Shishido scooted closer, ran his finger down the page. With his hair down, Shishido-senpai looked softer, a lot less the scrappy contender on the court, a lot more like... Hiyoshi shook his head. Not gonna go there. 

"Er, that problem," Hiyoshi said, only half paying attention. He tried to peek over at Ohtori again. Ohtori was never that exhausted after spending time with him... Ah...fuck. If he let himself go to that place, he might as well just let jealousy take him out of the game completely. Boy. This sucked...

Shishido was patiently explaining something about deviation and mean and... Hiyoshi started to get the desperate feeling in the pit of his stomach that he felt when he was about to lose a match. If this was the way Ohtori wanted him to understand that he was no longer necessary, it was pretty effective...

"...said you were really fun to play with," Shishido murmured, his hand straying away from the book and toward Hiyoshi's arm.

"What?" Hiyoshi blinked. 

Shishido leaned closer and closed the book, a stray lock of hair brushing over Hiyoshi's skin. He grinned at Hiyoshi's expression. "I totally lied. When I got out of my study group early, Choutaroh said this was Hiyoshi night, and that I was interrupting. Of course I simply had to shut him up when he said that...I admit, I've been a little jealous lately at the amount of my time you've cut into." Shishido leaned closer until his nose was inches away from Hiyoshi's. "But Choutaroh said I should give you a chance because you're really fun to play with." 

Hiyoshi blinked again. "Senpai..." he said, a little uncertainly, backing away a little from that slightly predatory expression. 

Shishido followed. "What? I'm not good enough for you?" The boy's voice was amused, a little dangerous, eyes like a hawk as he moved his face inches away again.

"I-it's not that, senpai..." Hiyoshi said, scrambling backwards until his hands gave way and he found himself spread comically flat beneath Shishido.

Shishido licked his lips and moved in for the kill, neatly straddling Hiyoshi, trapping him effectively below his hips, hands pinning him by the shoulders. "So what did you come here to do today, Hiyoshi?" Shishido asked, tone still light, amused. "Does Choutaroh meet you at the door naked? Or is it sometimes in a towel, like he's just showered from practice?"

Hiyoshi glared up at Shishido and flushed, testing the other man's strength. Hiyoshi gathered energy to throw him. Not answering those questions, not gonna stay around for this...boyfriend-battling, or whatever it was. 

"Does he pick you up as soon as you get in?" Shishido murmured, his voice going all husky, his hair falling down around Hiyoshi as he bent lower, staring. "Does he wrap his hands around your ass, slide you up against him, rub you together?" Shishido stretched his body along Hiyoshi's, grappling him more firmly, pinning him with the length of his body. Hiyoshi realized that although they were the same height, Shishido packed some muscle. "Because that's what he does to me..."

Those words totally gutted him, but at the same time filled his mind with the most vivid images. Shishido, back against the wall, impaled... Choutaroh's muscular arms clenching from the strain of lifting Shishido's hips. And somehow, even on top, Shishido was calling the shots. It was...

"D-damnit, senpai. Get off me," Hiyoshi gritted out, panting a little, and then found Shishido's hair sliding softly around his face like a velvety blanket, and a very skillful mouth finding an interesting spot below his ear. Hiyoshi almost cried -- Shishido was good.

"I'm a little hurt," Shishido murmured, voice STILL amused, goddamn him, "for two reasons. First, that you've been tiring out Choutaroh. And second, that I don't get to see what Choutaroh's been enjoying so very much..." And Hiyoshi felt teeth encounter a spot on the side of his neck that made his arms go slack. Ohtori didn't even know about that spot. He moaned a little, and immediately cursed at himself.

Yes, that only encouraged his bastard senpai. Shishido moved over to the other side of Hiyoshi's neck, all that soft hair tickling Hiyoshi's face, and paid attention to another few spots, tongue sliding and licking, teeth worrying at the tendon.

"Y-you suck --" Hiyoshi managed, the words turning into a groan as his body betrayed him and his dick hit his belly.

And then Shishido was laughing again, voice purring into his ear. "Not for you, I won't."

*

It was good, of course it was. 

No, it was even great. Being the same height meant that they could try out all kinds of things that Hiyoshi hadn't tried yet. And Shishido was the perfect height for deep tongue kisses while rubbing their erections all over each other. And if that wasn't some incentive to give in to his hormonal tide and fuck as quietly as possible while his lover slept on the bed behind him, then he didn't know what was...

*

Afterwards, lying face-down on the carpet with Shishido over him, Hiyoshi felt that soft hair embracing his head, falling all around it, Shishido's forehead against his hair, lips running softly all over his neck. 

As if they hadn't just... Shishido was still inside him too, and it felt like he hadn't stopped being hard yet. Hiyoshi moaned a little again, yet again, feeling his own cock stir at the sensation. "Senpai..." he said, half warning, half entreating. Shishido was so...

And then a low, husky chuckle cut into his thoughts.

Ohtori, that perv. Eyes wide open, wicked smile on his face, head pillowed on his hands. "Oh...don't let me stop you, Shishido-san." Ohtori said, and quietly wove a hand down to entertain himself.

And then, from above Hiyoshi, hips starting to move a little, Shishido chuckled too. "Hiyoshi's much easier to roll over than you are, Choutaroh. I think we're gonna have to share him from now on."

And Hiyoshi's forehead hit the floor. 

PWNed.


	2. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiyoshi's losing sleep, and Ohtori notices.

He was getting a little...persistent. Shishido seemed to be everywhere that Hiyoshi looked -- behind every classroom door, insolent grin on his face. Walking into the shower when Hiyoshi was in a compromising position, like soaping up his feet. And almost always waiting by Hiyoshi's dorm room door at some inappropriate hour of the evening, hair loose, head down and hand tapping to some inaudible music in his head. 

In fact, Shishido seemed to show up more than Ohtori nowadays, a new and fiercely hot (extremely compelling) presence in Hiyoshi's life that seemed to ramp up -- instead of down -- in intensity. The worst part was that Hiyoshi saw that cocky grin and didn't WANT to say no to his senpai... Even though he'd become the worst (best?) bad habit Hiyoshi had ever had.

But where was Ohtori? He seemed to fade out of Hiyoshi's life a little, and Hiyoshi felt hurt by it. 

On top of that, Hiyoshi's grades were suffering. 

The dark, bright time peaked one morning after Shishido had kept him up until nearly dawn with handcuffs and slow, steady cockteasing, only fulfilled after hours of hard begging. Hiyoshi had slept through his usual morning exercise routine, dragged himself to his first class, and then proceeded to fall sleep behind a pile of books.

Hiyoshi only opened his eyes when he felt a looming presence block out the classroom light. A persistent, firm, gentle voice in his head, hand on his shoulder. 

"Wakashi...Wakashi." 

"YES SIR, I -- Oh." It was the tall one. Hiyoshi blinked the sleep out of his eyes and attempted to smile. "Choutaroh." 

The boy crossed his arms and stared down at him, looking strangely disapproving. "Wakashi. You slept through two classes."

"I did?" Oh, shit.

Ohtori stared at him a little longer, and Hiyoshi shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He was pretty sure the other boy saw the circles below his eyes, the rawness around his wrists. Hiyoshi wondered if Ohtori hated him for taking away Shishido, and felt like that was one too many things to bear.

Hiyoshi turned his face away, self-consciously pushed his shirt cuffs down. "Why'd you wake me?" He muttered.

The other boy wasn't deterred, and even stepped closer. Hiyoshi felt a hand hook under his chin and lift his face up, and Hiyoshi was ready to pitch a fit about being stalked during school hours when he realized that all Ohtori was doing was staring down at him, a grave look in his eye.

Ohtori nodded once. "Mmm. I get it. I see."

"What?"

Ohtori sighed and touched Hiyoshi's hair, just once. A small and oddly possessive move that made Hiyoshi's heart flutter. "Stop by, tonight," Ohtori said.

And of course Hiyoshi agreed.

*

It was almost, almost like a repeat of last time. Except this time, Ohtori was sitting at the table, shirt off and hair a bed-tossed mess. Shishido was in the bed. Shishido wasn't asleep however, but glaring at Hiyoshi from above a neatly tied gag. And his arms weren't hanging over the side of the bed, but bound up over his head.

"Uh--ahh--oh," Hiyoshi said with vast coherence, staring from one boy to the other.

Shishido made a strange noise, and Hiyoshi noted that he was naked.

"I'll let you two have your --" he began, but Ohtori rose and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Shishido-san gets very enthusiastic about...things," Ohtori said dryly, and then grinned. "Remember how he sequestered me on the tennis court when we first started playing doubles together?"

Hiyoshi nodded, and then realized the implication. "Oh. I see. Got it." He glanced over at the boy tied to the bed. "Soooo...uh -- am I interrupting?"

"No," said Ohtori, his eyes growing a little heated. "Shishido was. Interrupting us. I thought I might teach our senpai a little lesson in self-restraint."

Hiyoshi sucked in his breath and nodded again, beginning to grin. "And you thought I might be able to help you out," he said.

"In fact," Ohtori said gently, "it would be best if you did, since the lesson is mainly for your benefit."

Hiyoshi's grin was almost animal.

*

Somehow, Hiyoshi thought during a rare lucid moment, it was even better with Shishido watching. Ohtori did things to him that they'd never done before, things that made Shishido buck against his restraints and grunt out deeply annoyed noises -- that resulted, of course, in gales of laughter (between moans) from the unbound members of the room. 

But finally, when Hiyoshi was straddling Shishido's bound body, Ohtori over him (in him), panting out his name, something in Shishido's eyes made Hiyoshi grind to a halt.

"Wh-what?" Ohtori said, dazed, cock buried deep in Hiyoshi's body.

Hiyoshi glanced back over his shoulder, moved a little. They both stared down. Shishido's fists had relaxed, his eyes were thick with lust, frustration, apology. Imploring. Wanting.

"He gets it already," Hiyoshi said. Ohtori nodded, and pulled out. Hiyoshi sat back on his heels and blinked, felt confused, not a little empty.

"So it's his turn now?" Hiyoshi asked, that...third wheel feeling coming right back.

Ohtori simply nodded, a wicked grin spreading slowly across his normally angelic features. He laid his long body next to the other two and brought his hand to his own cock. "Shishido-san is all yours."

Hiyoshi's eyes flew wide, as did Shishido's. And then, with a deep sense of justice being served and...more than a little lust, Hiyoshi dropped his lips to Shishido's body and began to take sweet, sweet revenge.

*

They untied Shishido eventually because Hiyoshi had to flip him over. But by then Shishido was moaning out his willingness to comply. When Hiyoshi found himself staring down at the boy on his knees before him, he (for the first time) found himself burning to slake an entirely different kind of thirst.

He'd never felt it before, never wanted it. Knew the appeal like an ache deep inside himself, but never wanted to dish it out before...this, before seeing Ohtori's flushed face watching him, eyes eating him whole. Before seeing Shishido beg for him, moaning for Hiyoshi's big, hot, hard dick PLEASE like he was some kind of...some kind of...

And when his fingers moved uncertainly, Ohtori was there to help, grab his hands and aim for the right parts, position his dick just so, help plunge him in with an unceremonious slap to the rear...

And ooohhhh...FUCK it was...

*

The problem, of course, was getting Ohtori to leave them both alone when they were done.

"I'm spent," Hiyoshi complained sleepily when Ohtori tried to bite his shoulder.

"He wore me out," Shishido laughed, batting away Ohtori's hands.

And then, noting the sulk on Ohtori's face, they exchanged glances, reached out their hands and pulled the taller boy between them.

"So what do we make the big guy do for us?" Shishido said, running a lazy hand down Ohtori's chest and grinning at Hiyoshi.

Hiyoshi pretended to think for a moment. "I wanna watch you top him," he said gleefully, and avoided Ohtori's thwap to his head.

Ohtori turned from classmate (under one arm) to senpai (under the other) and suddenly looked hunted, squirming a bit restlessly, powerful arms bunching like he could probably take them both if he wanted to. Hard.


	3. Acquiescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is longer and has more angst than the previous two chapters. Don't ask me, Hiyoshi was bitching that his status as a boyfriend was never really made solid...

Then came the week of the haircut.

Their school could be ultimately unfair, remorseless to the weak. It was one of the points that had drawn Hiyoshi to Hyoutei -- the thought that one day, he'd beat the system, make it crawl. But seeing it in action, seeing his lovers get caught up in the crunch and fury, gave him troubled thoughts.

Was friendship more important than winning? This thought undermined all of Hiyoshi's hard-won philosophy, the philosophy beaten into him at the dojo, taught to him on his father's knee.

That week also cemented the growing feeling in Hiyoshi's mind that perhaps he wasn't part of them -- was a toy they shared, but was not a real part of the dedicated "master and disciple" twosome. It wasn't as though he was a doubles partner after all. He had no claim to their time outside of the bedroom...

But toward the end of that week, he began to realize just how tenuous that claim was. He missed those two, or all three of them together, or one at a time. So he decided, very hesitantly, to stop by.

Choutaroh answered the door by leaning out of it, face grave. He saw Hiyoshi but his eyes didn't quite focus on him, simply shook his head. "Shishido-san is..." he began, a little awkwardly, his expression closing off.

Hiyoshi nodded. "No, it's okay." This was the brush-off. "He needs you. Only you."

Choutaroh blinked and shook out of the mood, but it was a moment too late. Hiyoshi was walking away, blinking tears out of his eyes.

"H-hey Wakashi, it's not that..."

"No, I get it," Hiyoshi muttered over his shoulder, "There never really was a silver trio."

Just then there was an anguished sob of "Choutaroh..." from Ohtori's room, and the boy disappeared in a flash.

So much for that.

*

Hiyoshi got sick of crying all night, every night. He was tougher than that, goddamnit, even if he did have to face the two lovebirds every single day.

So what could he do? Hiyoshi tried to forget them. This was made easier by the fact that he never frikking saw them off the court at all -- Shishido attacked his game with a single-minded purpose that made Hiyoshi shiver when he observed it. And one night, passing by the court, he saw Shishido forcing Ohtori to do things to him with a ball that...nobody should have forced the gentle boy to do.

It was frightening to watch, it was compelling. It showed Ohtori just who had the power in the relationship as Ohtori complied -- ball after ball -- to drive his serve into his partner.

It proved that Shishido was fearless, but it made Hiyoshi see something else. There was a level of trust that those two shared, something that Hiyoshi never shared in return. There was something about playing doubles that did that to you, Hiyoshi guessed. He wouldn't know. His game was, and always would be, singles.

*

Hiyoshi decided that the best way to get rid of the empty feeling was to find someone else to sleep with. Genkokujo! He would overcome heartbreak... There were a fair number of candidates on the tennis team, from diva to dork, and it was only a matter of convincing one of them that he was a viable playmate. Right?

So very carefully, he tried to shop around.

Jiroh was a wash. He kept falling asleep in the middle of a pick-up line, which did nothing for Hiyoshi's confidence.

Atobe said no before Hiyoshi even opened his mouth, and the laughter kind of rankled.

Kaba...yeah -- no.

Taki was still sulking from being kicked off of regulars. Which left...

"Quit it, kid," Mukahi said, rolling his eyes, poking Hiyoshi's soap-wet side. They were in the shower.

Hiyoshi glared and stammered, "B-but senpai..."

"They'll come back to you," Oshitari said, looming suddenly behind Hiyoshi. Hiyoshi tried to shrink into the wall. Oops, right. Oshitari.

"...Does everybody know?" Hiyoshi muttered, scowling, looking from one naked, wet teammate to the other.

Oshitari shot Mukahi a troubled look. "Heartbroken?" Oshitari asked.

Mukahi nodded, and slipped a little closer to Hiyoshi. "You almost make me wanna do you out of pity," the smaller guy muttered, wrapping an arm around Hiyoshi's waist. 

Oshitari ran a hand down Hiyoshi's shoulderblades, stepped in behind him, warm and solid and...

...so not Choutaroh. Hiyoshi felt the familiar prickle of tears in the back of his throat and cursed. He'd never be over them.

Only to be interrupted by the sound of soap falling.

Hiyoshi glanced at the door and froze. Ohtori was staring back at him, buck naked and stock-still, and Hiyoshi realized the pretty picture the three of them must make, all wet and embracing.

Ohtori's expression was...hurt? Right, that was ridiculous, and it...pissed Hiyoshi off.

Hiyoshi pushed his way out of the dirty pair's embrace and fled the showers.

 

Oshitari and Mukahi crossed their arms and glared.

Ohtori stared, his expression changing from shocked to hurt to angry. "What the -- senpai, what --"

Mukahi glanced sideways. "He's kind of a moron, isn't he?"

"It's not entirely his fault, darlin'. Shishido's been eatin' up his time with all his moaning and groaning."

"You'd think he'd notice that it's been a month, thought," Mukahi said thoughtfully, eyes boring into Ohtori's.

Ohtori's expression changed again, this time to one of dawning realization. "Oh -- oh no," he said, eyes widening.

"I can almost see the lightbulb go off," Mukahi snarked. "How fascinating."

"FUCK," Ohtori swore, shocking his teammates -- hit the ceramic tiles hard with his palm, and also fled.

"That had to hurt," Oshitari winced.

*

Hiyoshi spent the next two days "sick," not even emerging from his room for classes. The tentative knocking started on the evening of the second day.

"Wakashi," the voice called in, "Wakashi. Please let me in. I need to..."

Hiyoshi turned up the music.

The next morning, he found a note pushed under his door, which he ripped up without reading and tossed away. At practice he used his martial arts training to be where the Silver Pair were not, even passing through shadows invisibly when necessary. From a shadow, he noted that Shishido looked even more like a pissy tom-cat than usual with that haircut, and that Ohtori looked like a worried mom. 

That night, Shishido stood outside of his dorm room door, arms crossed, hat askew.

"What do you think you're doing?" Shishido asked, voice testy. 

Hiyoshi tried to push past him, but only got caught in the other boy's hands. "Let go. You two don't need me; you've had a month to prove it."

"We're sorry. I'm sorry. Didn't you get my note?"

Hiyoshi shrugged. "Got it. Didn't read it. Why should I? You'll just toss me aside again if you lose the next tournament."

Shishido's face flushed and his forehead wrinkled, clear signs of an impending snap of temper, one which he valiantly mastered. "Mmfff...I...ahhhh. Hiyoshi. Come back to Choutaroh's room with me for a moment, okay? We all three need to talk."

Hiyoshi stared. 

"Please." The voice was embarrassed, low, a mumble. Shishido never begged. Ever.

Slowly, hesitantly, Hiyoshi nodded.

*

What was better than talking was this: stepping into the room and immediately being taken into Choutaroh's arms and held so fiercely that Hiyoshi thought his ribs would pop.

Crying, and having Shishido gently clean his face with one of Choutaroh's shirts, prompting a small distressed noise from Choutaroh that Hiyoshi found he had to kiss away...

And then Shishido's arms came around him from behind, lips moving into a smile against the back of Hiyoshi's neck... And for a bright, clear moment, Hiyoshi trembled and shuddered, tears falling fast and hard, from the sheer feeling of relief...

With a groan Hiyoshi pulled Choutaroh to him and fastened his lips to the other boy's, punishingly, lovingly. And behind him, Shishido was whispering into his ear, words that did nothing but encourage his kiss.

"We're sorry...we'll never leave you out again. We're sorry."

*

The make-up sex was quick. 

Then it was slow. 

All of a sudden Hiyoshi found that he had the time to play with Shishido's new hairdo. Shishido's mouth was exploring the length and girth of Hiyoshi's cock -- the most profound apology Shishido could have made; it was the first time he'd performed such an action on his kouhai. Hiyoshi would have thanked Shishido, except his own mouth was busy with Choutaroh's fingers, two of them, getting them really wet because...

Choutaroh bit his neck, sucked it. "You probably want to be in me or something," he said, his voice low and fierce, "but you can't. Not until I have you again. Right now...right now." And it was a good thing Hiyoshi was bracing himself against Shishido's head, because Choutaroh didn't wait to see if Hiyoshi had been a good boy and saved himself while he was gone.

"Aaaaaagggghhhh..." It stung, and then oh fuck it felt good. Choutaroh was playing jan-ken-pon up there with scissors and paper, and rock was probably soon to follow. 

Shishido removed his mouth for a second and grinned. "Why the hell weren't you around? You know how much I've had to take it from the big guy lately?"

It was really hard to glare when your cock was being sucked, and at the same time someone was making your insides as soft and pliant as pudding...

*

And THEN it was Hiyoshi's turn, after they were all lying on the bed sticky and spent, sex going VERY VERY slowly indeed and Shishido lying lazily on his arm handing out advice.

"The big guy doesn't do this much, so you gotta stretch him like a virgin," Shishido admonished, lubing up Hiyoshi's fingers. "Start with one so he doesn't bitch at you."

Choutaroh reached around and batted at Shishido, who slapped him on the ass. "Quiet, UKE-chan. This is your apology we're dealing with."

Choutaroh growled a little, but it turned into a moan.

"That's right, find that spot I showed you," Shishido grinned, reaching a lube-sticky hand down to help out Hiyoshi's erection.

"When do I add -- another --" Hiyoshi gasped, noting the expanse of oddly vulnerable back stretched in front of him, Choutaroh moaning like Hiyoshi was a master puppeteer with Ohtori's body dancing before him. Hiyoshi could get used to this...

"F-faster -- Wakashi -- ignore Shishido-san --"

Hiyoshi shared a complicit look with Shishido and slowly, grudgingly wiggled in another finger. "Don't wanna hurt him, do we," he said, his grin going wide and wicked.

Choutaroh's subsequent violence lead to a Shishido on Choutaroh's back, firmly pinning him down while Hiyoshi took his sweet and torturous time.

And finally, when Hiyoshi was buried to the hilt, Shishido's fingers stroking and teasing at his own opening, Hiyoshi stopped for a dizzying second and thanked the gods of tennis for this.

"Wh-what?" Choutaroh gasped out.

Shishido gasped with laughter. "I think he said something like...'Oh thank god that doubles are better with three...'"

*

"Ask," Shishido ordered from one side of Hiyoshi.

From the other side of Hiyoshi, Ohtori blushed. "Things like this need their own time and place," the tall boy said, a little bit testily.

"Just...ask...damnit."

Hiyoshi grinned, looking from one to the other. "He really doesn't have to --" he began, but Shishido cut him off.

"Yes he does. We do."

Hiyoshi felt a bit uncertain then, wondered just what he was in for.

But then Choutaroh sighed and flushed. Opened his mouth. "Willyougooutwithus?"

"Eehh?"

"Will you go ... out with us, Wakashi?"

Hiyoshi felt joy burn through him, burst out of his mouth in a bellow of laughter. He reached down and lightly flicked two very spent dicks with his fingertips. "What the hell would you two do if I said no?"


	4. Reluctance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this one has Dirty Pair. And sex. And ...

There was a huge line between sex and dating. The three of them had crossed it a month ago, after the thing with the haircut. They'd all three been in bed together, doing their vastly pervy thing, when Shishido basically bullied Choutaroh into asking.

Hiyoshi wasn't sure what to answer, of course. The obvious answer was "Oh god yes, please -- please --" but he hated the sound of himself begging. He only panted out yes when Shishido trapped him in a neck-lock and Choutaroh smacked his ass hard and repeatedly. It sucked to be in a threesome, especially when the other two had no compunction against double-teaming him into submission.

And so they were dating. Choutaroh made this clear by doing 101 things that made Hiyoshi desperately uncomfortable, like opening doors for him, calling to wake him up in the morning (or kissing him enthusiastically with toothpaste breath, which was more usual), and holding his hand surreptitiously whenever he could in the hallways.

Hiyoshi liked that the least. He was a loner by nature, and the drastic change from his usual hand-in-pocket insolent stare to cutely holding hands down the halls of Hyoutei was almost more than he could handle.

But the second he tried to complain, Shishido was there to glare at him, smack him in the back of the head, and tell him that if he didn't treat Choutaroh right he was getting worms in his laundry basket, or worse, tied up and bound to Mukahi's bed.

It was a lose-lose situation. But Hiyoshi grimly stuck it out. For the sex -- of course, for the sex.

*

And the sex was honestly better and hotter and more fun than Hiyoshi had any right to have. There were some nights in the late summer where they were all drenched in sweat, each touch a torture -- but Shishido's fingers were in his mouth holding an icecube, and Choutaroh's hand rubbed the ice somewhere much lower. At moments like those Hiyoshi wondered whether he'd dropped into some insane Boy Love heaven.

It was at those moments that he was closest to panting out the words that would take them one step further -- one step over the boundary toward...Shit. Somewhere he'd never gone. 

His internal thought process spitted this out: It couldn't be love. They were boys, after all. And it wasn't like Hiyoshi was their doubles partner. No, it was just sex. And dating, or whatever described Choutaroh's inability to stop mauling him in the hallways, or making him bentos, or thoroughly embarrass him in a dozen other ways. Sex and embarrassment. 

Why was he with them again?

*

The thought of IT was with him like a rock in his shoe. 

He caught them saying IT to each other one afternoon after a match. He was passing by a flushed and victorious D1 just as they did their dorky pair bonding ritual -- Shishido throwing a towel over Choutaroh's head, and Choutaroh passing over the water bottle.

"AWESOME game." Pause. "Love you."

"Yeah. And I know you do, senpai."

Hiyoshi spent the next hour huddled behind the regular's locker room, contemplating everything and nothing. He wasn't sure if he was more shaken by the words (said so casually, everyday, like they were comfortable clothes), or the fact that he...obviously...had no part in them.

Goddamn it.

Why was he with them again?

Was it really for the sex?

He needed, wanted, proof.

*

It wasn't hard to get them to acquiesce. It was simply a matter of showing up in Oshitari's room and asking if he could try something out with his senpai. 

He waited until the laughter stopped, and ignored his flushing face. He watched as Gakuto's expression changed into one of hungry curiosity.

The smaller man stepped forward.

"Looks like he wants to play with the stray puppy," Oshitari said thoughtfully. "Would it surprise you to learn that Gakuto tops?" Yuushi grinned, putting his hands on Mukahi's hips and halting his forward motion.

Hiyoshi blinked. "Uhhh."

"Just kidding," Oshitari said blithely, leaned over, and pulled Hiyoshi swiftly into an entirely too skillful kiss.

It was a slow kiss. Oshitari's tongue slid around his mouth as sinuous and electric as an eel, but Gakuto was much more forward. Gakuto pulled out Hiyoshi's waistband and peeked inside speculatively. "You sure you want me in here?" he asked, grinning wickedly.

"Actually, I -- I'm not --" but then the tensai was kissing him again, deep and slow.

He learned swiftly that Oshitari went at an entirely different pace. It was slow, teasing. Oshitari did ... dirty things with his tongue, and with his voice too. He wrapped words around Hiyoshi like silk sheets, shoved a thousand hot images into his mind, made him pant without a single touch to his skin.

They somehow managed to keep most of their clothes on too, only losing bits at opportune moments. Hiyoshi noted with an internal snicker that Mukahi's complaints didn't seem to cease.

"Why're you doing THAT, Yuushi? Jeez... Do THIS instead," Mukahi scolded, and Oshitari grinned his entirely too lazy grin and acquiesced and somehow it was even better than Hiyoshi anticipated. Especially the part where Hiyoshi's legs were over Oshitari's shoulders, and the tensai's tongue was strumming Hiyoshi's perenium like a koto.

Gakuto watched. "Good at that, isn't he?" He grinned. "Sometimes I have to shove my cock up his throat to hurry him up." 

"N-not a bad...idea," Hiyoshi groaned, and tugged at the long blue hair until it obliged by moving up his cock and swallowing it back so far Hiyoshi blinked.

"Teach me how --" he panted out, and Mukahi raised an eyebrow.

"Don't push your luck, kid," Mukahi grinned, and suddenly there was a hot body wiggling over him, between them.

*

Snapshot of lust.

Oshitari had Mukahi impaled. Mukahi would have been facing him but wasn't, because he was doing a perfect backbend to suck Hiyoshi's cock deep.

Hiyoshi stared and stared at the arched torso, tentatively reached hands to press the strawberry nipples, blinked up at Oshitari with eyes wide.

The tensai winked at him from over the backward-arched torso. "You touch my bendy partner without me around, and I'm tying you up and leaving you at Rikkaidai."

Hiyoshi shuddered, and then moaned as Gakuto's mouth did something so intimate that he let go, shooting deep, deep into that arched throat.

*

They did other things too. Everything, it seemed. Until Oshitari was begging Mukahi to let up, already, he was hungry and tired and their toy looked spent.

After one more go (punishment for whining), Mukahi graciously allowed them to rest. Hiyoshi's brain was like one of the various puddles of fluids on the sheets, body entirely slack.

"So why us?" Mukahi asked, finger idly checking to see if Hiyoshi had another round in him.

Hiyoshi batted away the hand. "I wanted to check something out," he muttered.

"Did you find it?" Oshitari asked gently, running a finger down Mukahi's side like he was some sort of ultra-precious figurine, never to be touched lightly.

Hiyoshi stared at the hand, at the entwined couple, limbs meeting like a Worm Ouroborus without beginning or end. "Yeah."

That was about when there came a rather forceful knock on the door. Didn't sound like a hand. Sounded like a baseball bat.

Oshitari threw him a tortured look. "Hiyoshi. Don't tell me you didn't tell them before you --"

Hiyoshi shook his head, eyes wide. He hadn't expected this.

Mukahi shoved him out of the group cuddle a little roughly. "Go take your medicine, kid. We're not gonna take it for you."

"Hey, Gakuto, he probably had a good reason for --"

Mukahi glared at Hiyoshi. "GO already."

Hiyoshi blinked again, and hurried to get his legs into his pants before the door flew -- oh shit.

The doorknob blew out of the socket and the door banged open, revealing two backlit figures. The shorter one held the baseball bat over his shoulder while the taller one had crossed arms.

Hiyoshi looked from one to the other and stumbled back a step.

Choutaroh's hand descended forcefully onto Shishido's shoulder. "Let him explain first," Choutaroh said quietly.

Shishido shrugged Choutaroh's hand off and advanced in. "You -- fucking -- jerk --" he gritted out, dropping the bat.

Hiyoshi flushed, feeling the words like shots to the, to the...heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Why'd you do it?" Choutaroh asked, and the mixture of pain and patience in his expression was even worse.

Hiyoshi turned away. The answer was astonishingly simple, and utterly ridiculous. 

Oshitari leaned back against the pillows, watching with a hint of amusement. "Oh, God. Now I get it." He dragged Mukahi close with a hand. "Hiyoshi was getting cold feet."

Mukahi nodded, eyes wide with concern, and curled back into Oshitari. 

It was naked-time theater, and the Silver Trio was the floorshow.

"Shut up, Yuushi," Shishido snarled. "I'll deal with you later."

Oshitari just laughed. "Then take it out of our room before I get Kabaji over here," he said genially. He turned back to Mukahi. "I remember a spot I missed, partner..."

Hiyoshi found himself force-marched down the hall in short order, each arm firmly gripped by a boyfriend. The walk was silent, broken only by a swift visit from a robe-clad Mukahi, who handed Hiyoshi his jock strap.

*

They just sat and stared at him.

This really sucked. His heart was in a thousand pieces and it was his own goddamned fault.

Finally he broke the silence. 

"Please don't leave me," Hiyoshi whispered. His throat constricted.

Shishido reached out a hand toward Choutaroh, who took it. They kept staring, Shishido rubbing the back of his neck and looking down.

"OKAY!" Hiyoshi yelled. "Okay." He couldn't take the silence. Or those looks. "I...I...I...I love you...two. I love you two. With, you know," fuck, this sucked. "Love."

Shishido's face snapped up and he blinked. "Helluva way to show it," he muttered, but there was a very small grin starting on his face.

Choutaroh held Hiyoshi's eyes and simply nodded.

*

They denied him sex for two days. This involved rope, of course. They tied him down and made him watch as they worked each other over, Choutaroh filling Shishido again and again, face unexpectedly tender as Choutaroh scorched his partner's ear with words of ... love.

The bastards did it on purpose. They spoke of heat and passion and...commitment and togetherness and longing and...love. That word, over and over, emblazoned on Hiyoshi's brain with each deep thrust and soft lick and blazing high.

And each night they ignored him until the very end, when they untied him and sent him packing.

He cried, each dawn, alone in his bed. But went slinking back to Choutaroh's door, stood waiting outside of it like a surly stray, eyes peeking out of his bangs in challenge, acceptance. He'd take his medicine, he'd take his due. For them.

On the third day they sat silently before him again.

"Don't fucking do that again," Shishido stated, and finally, finally touched him. Hiyoshi shuddered at the hand on his hair, tentatively did the same thing, noticed that Choutaroh moved a bit apart from them, farther away.

"Scary, isn't it," Shishido said, nodding. His hand undid buttons, sought flesh. Filled Hiyoshi's aching need for skin on skin. Hiyoshi restrained himself from rolling onto his back and showing stomach, a stray taken back. Oh fuck God that felt good. "The big guy doesn't quite get it. But I do. And we'll work on him later."

Shishido's hands were on him again, and Hiyoshi's tears started about when Shishido bit a hard mark into his abdomen, teased his chest, suckled at his nipples like his body was wanted again.

"Practice," Shishido whispered, twining their cocks together with a hand. "Say it."

"Y-you...feel...so good..." Hiyoshi panted it out.

"No." Shishido stopped his touch.

"Love you," Hiyoshi groaned, bucking back up into the fingers. "Oh God I love you. Want you. Need you..."

And very suddenly, another hand was on the back of his head, in his hair, tilting his head back. A mouth descended onto his, the kiss rough.

Choutaroh pushed him off and stared at him, those hurt eyes slowly finding focus on his. "Need who?"

"You, Choutaroh. You and..."

And he was attacked before he could say Shishido's name.

Fierce. Nothing slow about it, fingers making him ready in scant minutes and a mouth taking the back of his neck like he was an animal. They made noises like animals too, finally, Choutaroh pushing hard up in him, Shishido watching and rubbing himself and grinning wide and feral. The word love seemed remote from this, but Hiyoshi's body knew what this was.

Pwning.

"You are mine," Choutaroh murmured, husky and low in Hiyoshi's ear, cock throbbing in him somewhere near Hiyoshi's solar plexus. "Mine. Aaahh--and his I guess," Choutaroh added grudgingly at the thwap on his head. "But you were mine first."

Hiyoshi smiled, his heart full. "I know."


	5. Completion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shishido graduates and his boyfriends have to figure out how to say goodbye.

Hyoutei dripped with water. It made the graduation field a cesspool, and despite Atobe's rantings, nothing could be done about weather. Graduation was delayed for a week, and it made all of the seniors prowl around like trapped lions eager for the wild.

This included Shishido, whose expression alternated between bored and annoyed. Atobe was already gone -- he let it be known that he'd be back on graduation day, but that he had important things to attend to at university. In actuality, he'd taken a few of the other schools' graduating team captains on a (romantic?) trip to the sea. As far as the other seniors, Oshitari and Mukahi were locked in a room. Every now and again someone would knock, only to hear a thud as someone (probably Mukahi) threw something at the door to encourage them to go the hell away. Oshitari, Hiyoshi knew, was heading to America for medical school. He wouldn't be seeing Mukahi for a long, long time, and the heartbreak going around was enough to give all of Hyoutei a saccharine overdose.

...It made Hiyoshi nothing but pissed off. He had his own massive headache to attend to, in the shape of a tall, mopey, heartbroken soon-to-be-senior. And when Hiyoshi snuck off to hang out with someone, anyone, who was NOT mopey, he only encountered Kabaji -- staring with intensity at a photograph of Atobe, tears running silently down a face set in stoic, enduring lines.

Hiyoshi wanted to smack somebody. No, he wanted to smack them all. Or at least stand on the roof of the Hyoutei belltower and scream, This is not the end of the world!

*

On the second morning of the grace week, Hiyoshi took one look at Shishido (sitting at the window staring out at the rain, foot tapping) and Ohtori (sitting in a chair staring at Shishido, expression beyond miserable) and did an about-face.

"I'm going out," Hiyoshi said shortly. He grabbed his hooded raincoat, put on his gumboots, and stomped outside. He flung himself in a random direction and left his brain behind, letting the weather and the road wash over him and clear his head.

Walking. Through the busy city, cars everywhere. Until his feet took him to the street court, where the poorer students of Fudomine were forced to spend most of their leisure time. Hiyoshi watched Tachibana Kippei grinning at Kamio Akira as they sat together under a small pavilion. Tachibana was graduating, but Kamio wasn't spazzing.

Hiyoshi sighed and sat on a wet bench. His pants were already drenched. Beneath him, a small bird hid beneath the bench, feathers fluffing to shuff off the rain. ...Maybe Hiyoshi was broken?

Maybe Hiyoshi didn't have a heart the way the other boys did. Or didn't love the way all the couples loved each other... He'd been allowed a space in the Silver Pair's bed, and in their lives, and even (so they said) in their hearts -- but Hiyoshi wondered why the only thing he felt when he contemplated Shishido's absense was...a determination to move on?

It was like his heart didn't WANT to pause and wallow and feel sad. Hiyoshi would much rather...

"'Kashi."

Hiyoshi blinked up. Oh. His big, stupid, tall boyfriend had followed him with an umbrella. All out of breath.

Ohtori sat down beside him, covering them both with the umbrella, one arm looping behind Hiyoshi's wet back.

"You two were supposed to make love and cry and pledge eternal faithfulness and stuff," Hiyoshi said with a scowl, holding himself a little away. "Why the hell are you here with me? He's the one that's leaving."

Was that it? Was it jealousy that was chilling his heart? Christ. Hiyoshi leaned down and pillowed his face in his hands.

Ohtori's hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him close, tight. "Moron."

"You're the moron, I'm all wet..."

Ohtori turned Hiyoshi toward him, awkwardly, one hand still trying to hover the umbrella over them both. "I need you," Ohtori said, his voice tight and strained and unhappy. Not all of the water on Ohtori's face was rain. 

"...Moron," Hiyoshi insisted, and then Hiyoshi knocked the umbrella aside and took Ohtori into his arms, holding him close as the rain drenched them both, feeling the heartache pass somehow through Ohtori's chest to his own. 

Hiyoshi listened to Ohtori's small sobs, the uneven noises of a boy who didn't like to cry.

Yes, this had gone on long enough. 

*

 

As soon as they got home, Hiyoshi insisted that Ohtori take a long hot bath. Hiyoshi toweled himself off and ran to find his second boyfriend. Who was (that shit) still lost in his own little world of pre-graduation daydreams.

"You self-interested bastard," Hiyoshi said, one hand on Shishido's shoulder in his favorite unpleasant grip.

"What?" Shishido blinked up, face going from astonished to pissed off in a matter of seconds. "Fuck you."

"No, senpai," Hiyoshi continued, smiling at his idiot boyfriend with the bared fangs of an upset cat. Perhaps one day Hiyoshi would be the one lost in dreams of the future. He devoutly hoped he wouldn't be as self-centered as Shishido about it, however. "Fuck YOU. For walking around like we've meant nothing to you all this time. And for acting like you want nothing more than to get the hell away from us. Are we nobody, now that you're heading off to university?"

Shishido blinked, mouth hanging open for a moment. Then Shishido's face contorted with anger, hand rising up to give Hiyoshi a swift, hard shove away from him. "As I said, fuck you. What do you know about this, shithead? I..." 

Hiyoshi stopped, hands fisting up. "What do I know about this? Only that you're treating Choutaroh like he doesn't exist any more."

In three swift steps Shishido was in Hiyoshi's space, fist swinging hard and fast. Hiyoshi had expected something of the sort -- in fact, he was glad. He dropped just as swiftly and brought his hand around in a hard chop to Shishido's upper arm.

Shishido's howl of pain was followed by a head-butt. Hiyoshi felt the wind whoosh out of his stomach as Shishido knocked him to the ground. Hiyoshi was pinned, and only just raised his arm to block the falling blow. 

"FUCK -- you shit --" That fucking hurt. Hiyoshi shoved Shishido over backward and threw himself on top of Shishido, fists flying to pummel whatever he could find. Then they were a blur of motion -- scratching, hitting, kicking, pain secondary to the sheer relief of finally, finally getting some of the tension OUT.

But then, just as Hiyoshi caught a small smile tugging at the corner of Shishido's mouth between blows, and just as Hiyoshi was abandoning himself to the joy of the battle, there came a noise. A hurt, uncomprehending noise.

"Wakashi -- Ryou -- What? STOP --" 

And strong hands shoved them apart.

They stood, panting, with Ohtori between them like a tall silver thundercloud.

Hiyoshi noted Shishido's developing black eye with a hint of pride, and then realized that blood was dribbling down his chin.

Then there was a hand at his throat, and Ohtori's eyes glaring at him with all of the hurt of a wronged boyfriend. "What the FUCK are you doing?"

Oops. Ohtori never swore. 

But then Shishido tugged at Ohtori's hand. Stepped forward to lay a hand gently on Hiyoshi's head.

"He's saying goodbye," Shishido said, and his expression was one of pure understanding.

"Fuck. Fuck..." Hiyoshi raised his arm to cover his eyes. He could take anything but that...that look...

And then Shishido's arms were around him in a hug, and Ohtori's arms around them both, and Hiyoshi couldn't have stop the tears if he tried.

"You shit. I know you wanna be out of here. Don't ... lie and say you'll miss us." Hiyoshi said, eyes and nose dripping into Shishido's shirt.

"...I wanted to get out of your way. You two. Thought maybe it...wouldn't be so bad if...I could let you two get together and..." Shishido's voice was just as ragged, just as hurt. 

"You're both complete idiots. I felt like I was the only one with a heart left in this place." Ohtori's voice was quiet, the saddest of all.

Hiyoshi raised his head. Shishido met his eyes, hand going out to wipe the remaining blood from Hiyoshi's chin. Hiyoshi realized with a small pang that he wouldn't get to have this for very much longer...someone who understood his small, violent brain better than he understood it himself. And then Shishido smiled and nodded at Hiyoshi's unspoken question, and as one they hooked their arms into Ohtori's and dragged him backward -- stumbling -- to the two twin beds they'd pushed together to make one.

*

They moved in a practiced choreography, Shishido and Hiyoshi, understanding each other's impulses before they were spoken, and this time, bending all their energy toward pouring love into their gentle partner's body.

They nestled into his sides, taking turns with kisses. Hiyoshi knew that Shishido's kisses would meet Ohtori's with the synchronicity of their long partnership, mouths moving in exactly the right way to make Ohtori's blood rise and kindle. Hiyoshi felt Ohtori's pulse race beneath his parted lips.

And then he tugged Ohtori's mouth away from Shishido's to join in a kiss of his own -- tasting his own blood in the sting of the split lip, their kiss playing out their own tension. Between Hiyoshi and Ohtori was a small thrill of power -- Hiyoshi's mouth yielding, allowing Ohtori's tongue to have it's way, Ohtori thrusting deep and demanding and wanting...

That's how it was with the three of them, how it had always been.

And then, when Hiyoshi tasted salt on Ohtori's lips, he realized that he was licking away his own tears. 

*

Afterwards, four arms were wrapped around Ohtori's torso, legs tangling with legs as Shishido and Hiyoshi played their usual game of jockeying for cuddle position.

But Hiyoshi's heart wasn't in it, and he backed away a little to let Shishido cuddle as much as he wanted.

Shishido shot Hiyoshi a wry glance. "Get back here. I love you too, you know."

Hiyoshi moved back sheepishly. 

"After all this time, he still thinks he's an outsider," Ohtori said softly, holding his grip around Hiyoshi's shoulder firm.

Shishido reached over and gripped Hiyoshi's hand, bringing it to his lips in a gentle brush. "You have to take care of the big guy now," Shishido said, voice getting gruff. "Make sure nobody fucks with him. And that he doesn't give away all his stuff to the first street person he sees. And that none of his fanclub gets their hooks in him."

Hiyoshi nodded, and felt something strange happen to his face. Oh -- shit. He was smiling, for the first time in weeks. "I'll keep him safe for you."

"For us, idiot."

"Us."

And then, mouth hurting from the split lip that threatened to reopen every time he smiled, Hiyoshi reached over to Shishido and tugged him in for a long, hard (painful) kiss over Ohtori's torso.

...Which began round two.

 

*

Graduation day finally came with a sparkle of sunshine and weather so fair that not even Atobe could find fault with it.

Hiyoshi and Ohtori sat together and watched as Shishido strode across the stage, fingers clinging to each other's surreptitiously as they watched Shishido bow and receive his diploma.

Then Shishido turned and stared at them over the crowd, flashing a smile so bright that they both smiled back despite themselves.

Things would never be the same. 

But that didn't mean they'd be bad.


End file.
